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The River


The river knows no restraint

It has to reach the sea.

From the mountains, when it flows

It revels in its spirit free.

Through jagged rocks and ravines deep

It wears its way along.

The forests smile when they hear

The lyrical lilt of its song.

Mud and silt and fallen leaves

Hold hands in friendly cheer

And race down in a rush and sweep

Without  a speck of fear.

In the plains where they reach

They slow down to catch their breath

From Nature’s lips , they have learnt

Lessons of life and death.

The stillness behind a lofty dam

Is neither right nor real

The river flows  through highs and lows

Till it finds its own level.

 
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Posted by on July 22, 2012 in Poetry, Reflections

 

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